Dreamers and Keepers

By

It is always a bit of a mental jolt to discover that one of your best-loved authors greatly dislikes another of your very favorite authors. I felt this way recently as I read an essay by Wendell Berry in which he took great umbrage with the wanderlust of Tennyson’s title character in the poem, Ulysses. I have always loved Ulysses, both the poem, and the man presented in it. I even memorized snatches of Tennyson’s sea haunted poem. When I read those great lines of Ulysses’ longing to “follow knowledge like a sinking star, beyond the utmost bound of human thought,” I knew his hunger. And when I read that face-down-the-night declaration of his purpose to “drink life to the lees,” and “sail beyond the baths of all the western stars until I die,” well, I wanted to take off for the far ends of the earth right then. Something new was waiting to be found.

So, you can imagine my dismay when I discovered that Berry found Ulysses’ adventurous fervor to be just the sort of misplaced hunger that sets people off on adventures when they ought to be keeping the faith at home. I’m a bit of a Wendell Berry fanatic. He answers so many of the questions I ask about how to create fellowship and life in a fast, isolated modern world. He’s all for steady cultivation and faithfulness over long years. How can any community or heritage be built, he wondered in his essay, if kings were always wandering off and leaving their people to the wind when the want for adventure struck? I saw his point. I understood. But I also knew that Ulysses’ hunger was more than a selfish whim to travel. It was soul deep, a hunger for something eternal. Somehow, both views had to be true.

At that moment, with two great authors juxtaposed over their view of one king’s adventurous heart, I understood that different souls see different sides of life. Different artists find different beauties. Different writers tell different stories. Some find glory in the adventure of life, the great journey required of every soul born. Some find glory in the quiet, daily growth of home life, the small, rich details that come from life carefully tended and lived. Both speak truth, both offer us beauty. Both offer a glimpse into the richness of God’s mind. I sat with my book in hand and thought back over some of my favorite writers and heroes, fascinated to find them each what I will call either a dreamer, or a keeper.

Take St. Brendan, for instance. He was a seafarer. Why? Cloistered, devout, he was just a young monk alive in a world still haunted by the furies of old pagan gods, hemmed in by the pathless sea. Danger abounded in brigands and storms and petulant kings. Yet an old monk mumbled a half-baked dream, murmured of paradise gained, and off sailed Brendan over the wild waters, in resolute search of Eden.

Jane Austen was an observer. Why? With a knife-keen wit and a mind to unsettle the wisest, she could have striven to philosophical heights. Instead, she spied on her neighbors, and wove the quips and foibles of dining room drama into immortal tales. Brilliant woman, parson’s child, country-bound spinster aunt, she questioned not her lot, but found it to be a merry drama and was glad.

Galileo was a doubter. Why? Taught to believe that the earth was settled perfectly in space, the glorious center of everything, he balked. Believe without question? Not him. He studied and stargazed and flung planets from their thrones with never a second thought. One peek through a telescope, one hunch in a prickle up his spine, and off he ran to prove what had never been seen.

I think the people of earth are divided by lines of desire. Dreamers stand on one hand, and keepers sit on the other. Restive and restless-eyed souls are the dreamers. They are the hungry-hearted, with wanderlust thrumming in their blood and eager brains, ever in search of what lies a fingertip just out of reach. Truth or beauty, treasure or friend, they would risk their life to find the unseen ideal. In the annals of time, the dreamers play out like high, bright notes in a symphony. St. Brendan had to find heaven if it could be found on earth. The call of it just beyond him was a song he could not resist. Galileo felt that all was not as he had been told. Ulysses wanted to sail beyond one more star. So it is with all dreamers. They are the explorers, the artists, the sailors, and searchers who ever beat down the walls of the known, intent upon finding what has never been found.

The keepers wait to welcome them home. They are the glad-eyed and frank-faced souls, who settle and stay with a faithful joy. The song of the unseen troubles them not; they feel instead the dance of the seasons, the cadence of days as time sings in the here and now. The present reaches a powerful hand from the deep earth and roots them, happy, to their one place in the wide world. They craft and build, they keep what is civil and lovely alive, they master the art of life lived richly. In the symphony of time, they are the rich-throated hum of low violins, the myriad voices who weave the steady, marching song of the earth. Keepers are the good kings who set their hearts to cultivation instead of conquest, the Jane Austens who revel in the merriment of every day. They are the rulers and builders, the farmers and reapers of harvests, the faithful who keep all that is good in place throughout the ages.

We are born, every one I think, with some leaning toward dreamer or keeper. In most of us, I’m sure there is a bit of both. But no matter which, we must push the song of our soul to its full beauty. The world needs the good that both bring. Evil is defeated by the dreamers whose souls rise to cry against all that is wrong, and the keepers already deep in the daily, gritty work of pushing back the dark. Beauty is cultivated by the keepers who shore up the world with civility, even as dreamers sail back and forth in search of newer, unknown good. Together, they weave the music of their souls, their work, and their wonder into a joyous symphony of fellowship. And this is the song the whole world was made to sing.

So, I’ll keep Ulysses and my beloved Mr. Berry. Together, they paint a brilliant picture of the world I am longing to find and create in my own work. Dreamers and keepers; together they paint the wealth of God’s heart. So, the question is, which are you?

Profile photo of Sarah Clarkson

Sarah Clarkson is the author of several books including the best-selling The Life-giving Home, which she co-authored with her mother, Sally Clarkson. Sarah is currently studying literature at Oxford University where she's not only a brilliant thinker and writer, but is also the president of the C. S. Lewis Society.


41 Comments

  1. Witmer

    I really like this essay, the 2nd to last paragraph in particular. You sum vividly the value of these different callings.

    I am a keeper – but a keeper afflicted with the ache of wanderlust, because this garden, this home, is not the one I was made to keep.

    As keepers we are settled in a world that is not our home, and not as small or as safe as we wish it was. We are the hobbits, returned to our Shire after a quest that has forever destroyed the false security produced by the work of our hands, yet compelled to till the good earth and plant new gardens, sowing hope until we are called to the Grey Havens.

    As dreamers we travel and search, looking for glimpses of our promised home, building many altars along the road, but only in the end reaching the far shores we sought all our lives.

    We are all strangers in a strange land, displaced, haunted… and Loved.

  2. Profile photo of Ron Block

    Ron Block

    @ronblock

    Sarah, I loved this essay. Paradox is at the heart of many truths. I love routine, but too much routine and I’m bored. I love adventure, traveling from city to city, or to Scotland, England, Ireland, Germany, and wandering. But too much of that and I am ready to be home.

    It also gives permission to those who follow their own calling, who sometimes don’t “look right” to others who want to stamp every Christian out in a cookie-cutter or assembly line. “If you are a real Christian you will be doing A, B, and C.”

  3. Sherry

    I love your essay, but I think maybe it’s a little more complicated than dreamer or keeper. You say yourself that we may have a little of both in each of us. Sometimes the keepers, like Frodo and Bilbo, are called to adventure, and they find along the way that they really do have an adventurous soul hidden beneath the stay at home gardener. And sometimes men in particular are called to stay and build and find adventure in the everyday task of building a home and a family and a community.

    There are seasons in life and callings and the difficulty is finding where you are called at any given time and remaining content and even thriving joyfully in that calling and season.

  4. Dan R.

    This is very good. It reminded me of the first part of Ecclesiastes, where the author keeps setting himself, by wisdom, to seek out and explore all the things that happen “under heaven,” only to find at the end of all his seeking that the best thing he can come up with is the enjoyment of the work and the lot that you are given. I speak from a relatively un-studied point of view when it comes to this book of the Bible, but to me it seems to express a similar balance to what you have written about in your piece, with a value for both the exploratory questing and the happy quiescence of a well-ordered life.

  5. kelli

    Sarah, this essay drips with beauty and truth. You’ve invited us to embrace who we are.

    Like Sherry, I immediately went to the Bagginses and the Tooks. And I agree that we all carry bits of both.

    I, for one, am a bit more of Keeper; however the Dreamer in me cannot stay silent for long. Sometimes it’s fulfilled in the journey of a novel. Other times it needs a bit more to be satisfied.But in the midst of dreaming or keeping, my soul always longs for pieces of the other.

    It’s like breathing…we have to inhale and exhale for each breath to be complete.

    What a thought-provoking, life-giving essay, Sarah. Thank you!

  6. Profile photo of Andrew Peterson

    Andrew Peterson

    @andrew

    Oh, my.

    Sarah, this is beautiful. I’ve wrestled with these two parts of my makeup for most of my life, having grown up a starry-eyed kid in a little southern town. I couldn’t wait to get out of town and “drink life to the lees”. In the goofy senior class last will and testament in my high school yearbook I wrote, stealing from Thoreau, that I had “a lot of marrow-sucking to do.”

    But reading Jayber Crow changed my life. I just bought three Rhode Island Red chicks yesterday and am as excited to raise them in our new chicken coop as I ever was to hit the road and see the world. I swing between Keeper and Dreamer several times a week, and like you, celebrate the beauty of each.

    Thank you for giving us a beautiful way to think about this.

    Also: your writing is breathtaking. Whew.

    AP

  7. Abbye West-Pates

    On Saturday, we planted our little baby lettuces and pea seeds in the garden, with the 4-year old from next door; and on Sunday I was dreaming of making it to the Charlotte “Counting Stars” show (I swear; it’s just a coincidence he posted before me) and seeing my long-lost cousin who is learning the art of wine-making in the the budding Carolina wine country. And what would be it be like to live near him, I wonder? Hey, what about the intentional community in Charlotte, maybe we could join forces?

    And I feel like there is always some keeping to be done, even in the dreaming. Could it be through consistency of relationship – writing letters, checking in, remembering in prayer – that we “keep” things, even from afar, even amidst the dreaming? It’s possible that didn’t make sense in letters, though it does in my brain.

    All the same – your post is bearing fruit. Thank you!

  8. Jess

    I’ve always struggled with this! I’m a dreamer; the keeper in me is very small and hard to coax out of its hole. And I always hate myself when I get to feeling too restless because it drives me insane–but I can’t help it. If I stay at home too long I start hungering until I am consumed with a need to fly away somewhere new… and all the time I am wondering, “is it just me? is it just me?” I realize that often God sets us in a position that is challenging for us (make us dreamers practice our keeping, and vice versa), but sometimes I’ll translate that into completely stifling the dreamer. You are helping me see that perhaps I can stay a dreamer even as I strengthen my keeper. So thanks for this post. Beautiful writing in itself always helps to calm the storm inside of me and satisfy my hunger for a bit, and this is certainly beautiful writing. Mix that with addressing the actual need and I could cry with relief. Thank you, thank you.

  9. Heather

    I loved this post, and agree with the comment that it is very applicable to Christianity, it takes a “Paul” (dreamer) figure and a “Peter” (keeper) figure to guard the gospel at home and abroad. And we shouldn’t necessarily condemn aspects of one or the other just because they seem different to us.

    I also deeply sympathize with the dismay of one author disliking another. When I learned that Lionel Trilling had harsh words about T.S. Elliot’s poetry, I was saddened.

  10. carrie luke

    wow. sarah, writing like this just makes me happy to be a reader, whether I’m having a dreamer or a keeper day.

  11. Rachelle

    What a beautiful post!

    And I loved Witmer’s comment.

    I am a displaced keeper who is called to a dreamer’s journey. I crave the liturgy of the everyday, rooted life, but God has placed within me the need to follow His Spirit down far reaching roads so that in the journey I can invite others on toward our real and eternal home.

  12. Jen

    Jess: This is so true! “I realize that often God sets us in a position that is challenging for us (make us dreamers practice our keeping, and vice versa), but sometimes I’ll translate that into completely stifling the dreamer.” I’m pretty sure we all have both in us… good to realize that it’s okay for them to co-exist, and that they both can be strengths. In my case though, I think I’m opposite. =) I have my restless dreamer side, but I don’t do change very well. My inner keeper doesn’t like normal things being uprooted. Thanks for sharing that!

    Sarah, this is beautiful… and one of those great paradoxes! Thanks for being aware of the tension, and putting it to such elegant words. Dreamers and keepers need each other. Always enjoy seeing your writing here!

  13. Felicity

    I agree, simply a lovely post. I also find that my single young adult years were all about the dreamer in me. Now that I’m happily settled into life with my husband and four children, I embrace the role of keeper. I do find, however, that the dreamer rises often in response to the dreamer’s cries in my children’s hearts. And then we dream for a time together about the days of their lives that will be full of chasing and fixing and making right. And I know someday they also will likely find a place to call home and be called upon to keep. And so it goes . . .

  14. Brian Roberts

    YES! I love this. I too have struggled with the limitations of Wendell Berry’s repeated intimations that unless all people ‘grow where they are planted’ the world falls apart. For example, it causes me great guilt when I think that since I agree with him so much in so many things that that means I was wrong, as Andrew was wrong, to leave my ‘hometown’ in pursuit of what I believed God was calling me to do professionally, but which I could not have done had I not left. WB’s philosophies are sooo good, but I often have to realize that just because I do not always live them all out in all of my life I am ‘less than’. It sounds crazy to wrestle with such feelings of guilt over what someone else has written, but there it is.

  15. Sarah K.

    This essay was so marvelous! I’ve noticed that the images that appeal to me most are rooted and steady– when I think of what I want for myself, I picture a garden, though I’m not much of a hand at growing things, and I’m sure that’s because, like Wendell Berry, I lean toward the “keeper” side.

    I do think that great artists can be either. I know you agree with this, Sarah, because you give the example of Jane Austen. However, it still distresses me a little to see artists tallied in the dreamer pile along with explorers and searchers. I’ve previously thought about the fact I love Jane Austen more than Charlotte Bronte because she seems to me (accurately or not), so settled and content. Similarly, John Donne and George Herbert are two of my favorite poets. Both were stunningly good poets of the 17th century, both wrote some of the best devotional verse in the English language. However, while I love both, I feel a special affection for Herbert, and I labor under the happy delusion that if we knew each other, we’d be friends. (Thanks to your essay, I now have exactly the right terminology to explain why this is the case!) He’s an excellent example, though, of how an artist with a keeper’s temperament still sometimes pushes boundaries artistically.

  16. BuckBuck the Nordic Wonderduck

    Sarah, Berry and Tennyson are two of my favorite writers, too.

    Odd questions, but I don’t suppose you’ve ever read _Toot and Puddle_ by Holly Hobbie? It’s a charming children’s story about two little pigs. One is the wandering dreamer, and the other is the home keeper. It’s always been one of my favorites. You might giggle to see the thematic resonance.

    http://www.amazon.com/Toot-Puddle-Holly-Hobbie/dp/0316080802/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1300156682&sr=8-1

    Beautiful writing here. Thank you!

  17. BuckBuck the Nordic Wonderduck

    P.S. I grew up in Kentucky, and I had the chance to meet Wendell Berry before he got so famous. Once I went to one of his readings in a dark little dive, and I noticed he didn’t have a watch. It’s been twenty years or so, and I can’t remember quite how the conversation went. But I remember that he said something in the tenor of aged, profound farmer that was akin to, “I don’t dare strap something as powerful as time upon my wrist.”

    I was traumatized, because I already idolized him enough at that point to have sneaked a caged hamster named Wendell Berry into my dorm room in his honor (which, looking back on it, was a sick irony). You see, this was before cell phones, so watches marked the rhythms of our lives.

    Convinced that my integrity had been compromised by technology, I quickly ditched mine. ‘Fumbled through several weeks of idealism, bumming time off business majors who didn’t understand the hell-threat of modernity.

    But finally a little voice rose in my head. Hissing. It said, “If Wendell Berry jumped off a bridge… if he wrote poems with burned sticks on butternut squashes… or wove his pants out of pussywillow fibers… would you?”

    It was a hard choice. Like that first Christmas Eve you decide not to stay up all night listening for Santa…

  18. Amy

    This was an amazing piece. I always feel a little sad when an artist I like (or an author) criticizes another artist (or author) I like. I appreciate how you found beauty in that tension–between the dreamers and the keepers. I also love the beauty of your writing….I could read this over and over again. Thank you so much for this post!!!

  19. luaphacim

    My deepest aspirations and yearnings are those of a dreamer, but lately, it seems like my actions are those of a keeper.

    Maybe it’s a love of security that has led me to stifle my dreaminess, or perhaps it is a love of my wife (who values keeping more than dreaming) — I really don’t know.

    But I have found that keeping offers a different kind of pleasure than dreaming does. Not better, necessarily, but certainly satisfying in its own way.

    Like AP, I have swung from keeping to dreaming and back again many times, so I hope that perhaps the pendulum swing is getting gradually shallower… and that I am consequently becoming a more balanced person.

  20. Fellow Traveler

    This reminds me of AP’s song “World Traveler.” I actually created a music video for that song using footage from It’s a Wonderful Life. It worked SPLENDIDLY. At least, I thought so…

  21. Donna

    It is a rare soul who can find such holy beauty in the opposing natures of our beings and cause us all to delight in both equally. Bravo!

  22. Jess

    By the way… This reminds me of a few books that, in their own way, address the dreamers and keepers theme. _The Bird in the Tree_, _The Herb of Grace_, and _The Heart of the Family_ by Elizabeth Goudge (one of my favorite authors). Oddly enough, when I read her books I feel the dreamer in me settle down a little bit and make room for the keeper to blossom, at least for a short time. A God-given rest from the exhilerating pull of dreaming.
    🙂
    And again, thank you, Sarah, for this post. I COULD say it a million times so I thought I should at least say it twice.
    😉

  23. Brian

    Man I love the Rabbit Room.

    AP, I just got four Rhode Island Reds last fall, also thanks largely to Mr. Berry.

    Brian (Roberts), your comments resonate with me. I know Berry’s right, but I can’t fit all of his ideals into my life right now, or maybe ever. I’m in the middle of wrestling right now with the fact that I can’t live out all the ideals about which I am passionate. I can’t raise my kids near their grandparents, live and work among the poor, tend a plot of land, stay involved with my church, and choose a place on Earth to invest my life. Especially when committing to those ideals would mean uprooting the life God has given me.

    Somethings have got to give. I have to surrender to living un-idealistically.

  24. Chris

    Like many here, I’ve struggled between the two. For the longest time when I was younger, I was a dreamer. I wanted to get away on an adventure, but God closed every door for that, and for awhile I was rather discontented about it. But I’ve slowly come to accept the keeper role more, and lately even to embrace it in many ways. The dreamer is still inside, he just gets fulfilled differently–sometimes it just takes a good afternoon of rambling through city streets to feed the hunger.

    By the way, one of my favorite poets, Louis MacNiece, wrote a poem in which he talks about St. Brendan in a similar way to Tennyson I think. It’s called “Western Landscape”

  25. Sarah

    Ah, lovely thoughts all! I have savored this discussion.

    I do think there is such a tension between the dreaming and the keeping. I agree, I think both are required (or given) throughout our lives even if we tend to lean more in one direction (I think I will always have at least one restless bone in my body). I am definitely in a dreamer phase and though the fresh air of adventure is great, oddly enough, I often yearn for the rootedness of a keeping life; inspired by Berry, I think I might pray for a tiny farm!

    I wonder though, if the key to both phases of life is the “assent” (a term W. Berry often uses) we give to the story we have been given, and the beauty we bring to each phase, dreaming or keeping. Maybe God gives dreamers the gift and/or challenge of a keeping phase (and vice versa) to show them aspects of himself they would never otherwise see.

    Jess- so funny you should mention the Goudge books – not only is she one of my favorite authors too, I just finished a re-reading of that trilogy. Man, there is nothing like Pilgrim’s Inn to make you want to settle down and make a home for posterity!

    And oh my goodness, little chickens and baby lettuce. Gotta say, I’m a little jealous.

    Thanks for the lovely comments everyone.

  26. Brian

    Sarah,

    About that assent…I’m intrigued by the idea of the assent of the story we’ve been given. I don’t get it, but it sounds important.

    Could you say more about that or reference where Berry talks about it?

  27. Brian roberts

    Incidentally, last year I got to make a VeggieTales episode that was about a Dreamer who learns to find peace as a Keeper. In (co) writing it I was able to put a lot of my own struggles with this theme, as the protagonist was a dreamer who wanted to get away from the Toy train factory his father built, but never could. My own father still implores me to come home and run the factory HE built, but God continues to give and bless other dreams. It was called “It’s a Meaningful Life”, it’s available on Netflix streaming (for free, even!)

  28. BuckBuck the Nordic Wonderduck

    This whole conversation has been so helpful, folks. Thanks to everyone who has shared their experience with this struggle. I can tell this is one of those posts I’m going to come back to over and again when my heart starts to feel restless.

  29. Sarah

    Brian, I think the first place I remember coming across it was in the collection of Berry’s short stories, “Fidelity.” He talked about “assent” as the full acceptance, or really, the yielding of the heart to the circumstances we have been given.

    Honestly, I’d have to read back through to remember which story and find the exact quote, but I was really struck with the way he pictured assent as being basically a gracious acceptance of one’s lot instead of resentment against it. He pictured how this acceptance leads to the possibility of creativity and joy being brought to every phase of life, instead of it being poisoned by resentment.

    I thought of it in relation to the dreamer/keeper idea because I always feel the tension between the season I am in, and the one I want to be in, the dreamer I am, and the keeper I hope to be. The idea of assent really challenged me to value and cultivate each phase of my life, even the times that seemed wasted or useless to me. Surely the success of all great dreamers, keepers, artists, tenders, etc., is in the way they chose to cultivate the life they had and bring the greatest possible beauty to their days.

    Hope that rambling answered your question!

  30. lefthand30

    This essay is one of the many reasons I love to come in and wander around the Rabbit Room. Reading the posts and listening to the songs of the day opens and stretches my brain in ways that it hasn’t been in the last few years. My focus was needed in other areas of my life. For a time, I felt lost because I wasn’t able to read as much as I once did. That part of me had to wait until the other areas of my life settled down. There were times I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back to reading. Last fall as I was returning from my father-in-law’s memorial service, I heard Andrew Peterson’s “Dancing in the Minefields”. My ears perked up. As soon as I got home and husband and son were tucked in bed, I went on the internet and started searching. I found out about Andrew Peterson, his music, his books and The Rabbit Room. It blew my mind that there was this online community that I could identify with. I didn’t comment much. I am quite happy to sit in the corner, observe and think about what people are writing. It awakened in me parts of myself that I thought had shriveled up and blown away. About a month after discovering all this, my husband and I had the opportunity to see Andrew Peterson and the Captains Courageous at the Under the Radio studios. It was a very special evening that I would describe as an oasis. A time to stop, reflect and be refreshed. I continue to read and listen. The “Behold the Lamb of God” DVD and CD made our 2010 Christmas extra special. I have read the first two books of The Wingfeather Saga and am looking forward to reading the third. I dove back into reading the Bible on a daily basis. When I think about the question of being a dreamer or a keeper, I would have to respond that I want to be a dreamer but at present am called to be a keeper. I’ll satisfy the dreamer in me with good books, good music and good movies. Thanks for reading and I look forward to seeing where this journey goes from here.

  31. Elizabeth

    Thank you for this writing, Sarah. I first read your dreamers and keepers piece on your blog a few weeks ago, and the tension has haunted me ever since.

    I am living a dreamer’s life in Europe, surrounded by other scattered dreamers following calls, passions, desires, whatever word you want to insert. The thing that troubles me sometimes about dreamers is the fine line between pure, untainted soul hunger and driving professional ambitions. I find many dreamers wandering around with someone else’s dream. Wendell Berry deals with this over and over in his novels: many wanderers go out on their adventures because someone told them they needed to make something of themselves. The quest for more sights, sounds, tastes, and knowledge becomes more about economics and assimilation rather than a noble quest for art and beauty. In Agrarian Essays, Berry deals much with the economics of dreamers. The American Dream (more material= better life) has become virtually the only dream our culture knows. It is this institutionalized, assimilated dreamer that Berry particularly addresses I think. It is the “why” of the wanderer that I often want to ask. What is driving the dreamer?

    I love how Berry deals with assent (as you said in a comment, Sarah) and “presence.” Jayber Crow becomes a man “fully present in himself” and yet able to dream the impossible (being a faithful husband to a woman already married whom he barely knows.) Andy Catlett can “see” the thousand faces that have come before him and will come after him as he walks his farm. Hannah and Nathan Coulter stand on a piece of abandoned, run-down land and dream of what it could be if two people transformed it and kept it. The dreamer living as keeper or keeper unleashing the dreamer in the present can be a powerful force. It is often economics, not soul hunger for adventure, that tells us otherwise.

  32. Lindsey

    This was simply beautiful. A masterpiece of well written truth, beauty, and goodness. I’m new to the Rabbit Room, and have so enjoyed such treasures as this, as well as the wonderful community that accompanies. So, thank you, Sarah, and fellow Rabbit Roomers for creating such a cozy and inspiring place for a Keeper like me.

  33. joe thayer

    I have been reflecting on this post all week with a smile. You see my chickens (two reds and three frizzles) have developed a wanderlust. They must make it past my fences and into the neighbor’s yard. So I chuckle as I try to improve my boundaries to contain my feathered Houdinis. I am a keeper but my chickens are dreamers. I am a dreamer keeper.

  34. Taking Off by Jenny Moss | Semicolon

    […] decision about whether she will be a “keeper or a dreamer.” I got those two labels from this post at Rabbit Room by Sarah Clarkson. As I commented there, I think all of us have some of the dreamer and some of the keeper inside us. […]

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